The buzzing of the fly resonates in my ear like someone was beating a drum. The silence is loud in a way I had never imagined before. The distant skyline was all pink with a hint crimson just a while ago, but now it seems all dull grey and pale. Such is the colour that it reminds me of a face. A face that has long lost its charm. But a face that might have looked better when it grew old. The lovely jaw structure would have softened by then, fine lines shaping the face at the corners and crinks around the eyes indicating a life well spent.
But then not all faces have that liberty, do they? No. Life always has plans of its own. However much we plan, make plans and vow that we would do so and so...life's plans triumph at the end. I remember the time when I was a child. My ma used to say look carefully before you cross! I did, I always did. But Barney my older brother still laughed. He called me names.
He told me that he had plans and that his ideas were indispensable. I believed him. B…
But then not all faces have that liberty, do they? No. Life always has plans of its own. However much we plan, make plans and vow that we would do so and so...life's plans triumph at the end. I remember the time when I was a child. My ma used to say look carefully before you cross! I did, I always did. But Barney my older brother still laughed. He called me names.
He told me that he had plans and that his ideas were indispensable. I believed him. B…